


Colour

by minazukihatta



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence lives, Cross-Posted at Tumblr, M/M, Made-Up Magical Illnesses, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, other mentioned characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:11:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8939452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minazukihatta/pseuds/minazukihatta
Summary: Graves does not see the world the way other people do.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmeraldWit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldWit/gifts).



Graves does not see the world the way other people do. Other people will take in the world with its brightness, its vibrancy and colours. For Graves, however, the world is black and white and those shades of grey in between. Instead of blue, the sky will be a broad plain of grey, with misty puffs of white making up the clouds. Occasionally, though, there will be rare splashes of vibrancy like the gold of his mother’s wedding ring, the faint streak of colours made by a rainbow in the sky or the rich red of a rose. They contrast the grey surrounding Graves beautifully, like the beam of a lighthouse breaking through a foggy mist. But it doesn’t last long. It’ll last a minute or two before it fades back into that dull black and white image. Graves cherishes these brief flashes of colours as much as he can, trying to commit each colour to memory.

 _Monochromatia_ , the mediwitches and wizards say. It’s a rare magical condition found in the people in the Graves family. There’s no cure for it. It’s a harmless condition that deprives whoever is suffering it of colour. It shouldn’t be too much of a hindrance to Graves. He’ll just need labels and the sort to help him out.

Through his life, Graves find himself cursing his monochromatism and others who take for granted the colours they can see. It’s part of the reason he’s so stern and bossy most of the time. This little mistake of genetics singling him out from others.

Being stuck inside Grindlewald’s suitcase is _hell_. Not only Graves is stuck in a cramped space, his monochromatia starts to mess with him. The black begins to take over, shadows engulfing everything, until everything is consumed and all Graves can see is darkness. His own thoughts keep him company in that box, slowly tormenting him. 

The world is darker when he’s rescued _(fucking finally)_ by MACUSA. Five months he’s been stuck inside that hellhole. Five fucking months. Not just that, Grindlewald has been impersonating him for that entire time and _nobody noticed_.

Graves can’t go back to work immediately. Not when demons in the dark stalk after him and more than a few screws in his head has been unscrewed. Seraphina tries to stay in contact as much as she can, but she’s the Madam President and Graves can’t forget the fact, even if she’s his _best friend_ for what—over ten years? She didn’t seen through Grindlewald’s act. She didn’t know some bleached European was wearing his face.

Graves appreciates Queenie and Tina’s visits. The Goldstein make for good company, unafraid of Graves’ temper and always happy to lend a helpful ear. It also helps that they bring good food. Graves will forever be amused and suspicious of the sweets they delivered sometimes shaped strangely like magical beasts.

Recovery is slow, torturous even. Graves will still wake up in the middle of the night, thinking that he’s back in that _damned_ box, and he can’t stand being in crowds, after spending so much time being alone.

When he first meets Newt Scamander, it’s definitely memorable. The kid crashes in through his apartment window, along with Tina. He picks himself up, dusting the glass off him and helping Tina up. Tina offers a quick explanation of what the fuck happened—some magical beast that had gotten loose in Brooklyn and now Newt and Tina were chasing after it, trying to catch it before it exposed magic to the No-Majs or hurt anybody—while Scamander gives profuse apologies, begging for forgiveness.

And then Graves notices Scamander eyes: yellow, orange and green. The colour of sunflower petals, the green of leaves and the orange that streak the sky at sunset all in those eyes. Could people have eyes like that? And another thing Graves notices is the colour doesn’t fade from those irises. No, it’s like they fight for dominance as Scamander checks over Tina and formulates the next part of their plan to find their beast. They’re halfway through the door when—

“Wait.”

Scamander and Tina stop.

Graves picks up a coat and his wand. “I’m coming with you.”

Scamander’s eyes turn a fascinating shade of bright orange at that and Tina goes, “Sir?”

“I need the exercise. I’m done sitting around, feeling sorry for myself.”

* * *

Graves goes back to work quickly after that. It’s a different kind of hell. It’s easy to slip back into the role of Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security and Head of MACUSA’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement, professional grump and hard-ass. But he’ll look at some minion of his and think _‘Sharp enough to spot a red herring but not smart enough to see a fake’_. Graves quickly changes his train of thought from there. It doesn’t help anybody. He improves magical identity screening procedures to make sure something like some asshole impersonating a MACUSA official doesn’t happen again.

Scamander explodes into the auror department much like he did into Graves’ apartment. He’s all smiles, gangly limbs and strange grace, with a metaphorical ray of sunshine, brightening the damp mood of the aurors in the office. Fuck, the kid doesn’t even mind being arrested. He just sees it as another friendly get-together with his pals. (To be honest, Graves think none of the aurors want to arrest Scamander; they’ll feel like the bad guy for arresting a sunny and pleasant guy like Scamander—Graves included.)

Graves, like a twelve-year-old with a _crush_ , starts to use any and all excuse to see Scamander, who regularly hangs out at Tina’s desk. It’s his eyes, Graves tell himself, it’s the way they glow, the way they change, the way the colours don’t fade. It’s not the way Scamander will chide his niffler like a disappointed parent, or the way his smile will grow wider when presented with sweets and the feel of his hand on Graves’ shoulder. It’s _not_.

“I’m a morphomagus,” Newt—how did Scamander become Newt? Graves ponders—confesses as they sit in Central Park, far from inquisitive ears. Newt’s eyes, clear, crystal blue, stare out into the distance. “Except, I can’t really control my ability. My eyes just change colour with what I feel. I’m sorry if they alarm you or anything.”

“Don’t be,” Graves says quickly. “I have monochromatia. I see the world in black and white. I’m grateful for any scrap of colour I can get.”

* * *

 

Pink is when Newt looks after his creatures, when he cuddles against Dougal the demiguise who hangs off like a monkey, when he strokes the scales of a swooping eagle, when he brushes a stray strand of hair from Tina’s face and sends a smile to the Barebone boy who follows after him like a baby duck after their mother. It’s a common colour Graves sees on Newt as the kid is constantly happy.

Yellow is when Credence and Tina get kidnapped by dark wizards, when somebody threatens to take Credence due to his hybrid human-obscurial status, when Newt can’t find his niffler, or when Newt gets nervous and anxious. This isn’t a colour Graves likes to see on Newt. Graves does whatever he can to get Newt’s eyes to change blue or anything—help Newt track down his niffler, allow Newt to tag along on the rescue mission to find Credence and Tina, threaten the asshole who dares to treat Credence like some science experiment.

Peridot green and pink is when he and Newt meet Ambassador Leta Lestrange from the British Ministry of Magic. Graves tries to ignore the longing, love-sick looks Lestrange and Newt send to each other, the lingering touches and the way the two will disappear at times.  Old school friends, is what Lestrange and Newt call other. Lovers, is what they don’t tell people. It doesn’t work out, of course, Lestrange is _married,_ from a well-to-do Pureblood family and Newt’s everything she’s doesn’t deserve—kind, nurturing, forgiving, bright and the most beautiful thing in this dark world. After the whole ordeal, Newt’s eyes are black, occasionally grey. Graves is scared that Newt’s brightness has faded into the black and white of Graves’ world that Newt assures him—

“Don’t worry. My eyes go this way when I’m … _upset_. Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

 

Graves gets his own colour, this funny little mix between blue and purple, whenever Newt looks at him. Indigo, Queenie tells him with this knowing look on her face. She doesn’t tell him what it means though.

Graves finds out what it means when Newt hesitantly places his lips on Graves. Love. Indigo means love.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys, so you have seen this post on Tumblr, but don't worry, I actually wrote this. I hope you enjoyed reading this. I'm cross-posting this so there are more fics on AO3 for Gramander. Also, some of you may be offended at how I portrayed Graves' PTSD. When Graves said 'I'm tired of sitting around, feeling sorry for myself', I'm trying to show that Graves is trying to push past what happened to him, that he's moving forwards. He's not going to act like it never happened or just jump out of bed, feeling like everything is right with the world. Graves is going to work through his issues with what happened during his time spent being held captive by Grindlewald. 
> 
> You can check me out at timandstepharebamfs.tumblr.com and drop a prompt in my ask if you want.


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